


Beautiful Dreamer

by Zhie



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 16:50:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8808469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Snuggling Elves and general banter.  Plot? No. Just life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written March 14, 2016. Edited and posted 12/10/2016.

It was difficult to say whether Erestor had joined Fingon on the chaise, or if it had been the other way around, but the two were draped over each other - with the exception of Erestor’s lower left leg - when Glorfindel opened the door to the cottage. Faelion sauntered over after he locked the door, and was the first to speak. “What went on here?”

“You were late,” Fingon pointed out. His voice was a whisper, and it clued the arrivals to the fact that Erestor was asleep. “We had dinner,” he added when Glorfindel lifted the edge of a plate that still contained a picked-at pile of noodles. 

“Looks like only one of you ate,” whispered Faelion as he removed his cloak and hung it on a peg near the door.

“We shared. Neither of us eat much. Less dishes to clean.” Fingon watched Glorfindel pick up a dish that still held more than half of a slice of cake. “You can finish it if you want,” he offered.

“We had pie,” explained Faelion as Glorfindel retrieved a spoon with his free hand. “You had two pieces,” he hissed when Glorfindel scooped up some of the cake. 

Glorfindel shrugged. Erestor stirred, but instead of waking, he turned and burrowed against Fingon. “That is adorable,” he said, pushing the cake away from the icing. “Does he look like that when he snuggles against me?” he wondered out loud.

“He always looks cute when he sleeps, on account of him closing his eyes.” Faelion stuck his finger into the frosting on the plate Glorfindel had taken possession of. “Fingon, do you ever sleep?” he suddenly asked.

“Not often.” Fingon stretched the arm that was not wrapped protectively around Erestor to retrieve a bottle beside the chaise. “We chilled this out in the snow, but never opened it. The glasses are on the counter, and neither of us really wanted to go get them when we realized we forgot them.”

“Are you trying to get rid of us?” Faelion sucked the frosting from his finger as he arched his brows.

Fingon held the bottle higher. “You tell me.”

Glorfindel finished off the cake, set down the empty dish, and plucked the bottle from Fingon. “Good vintage,” he noted before he handed it off to Faelion. “Do you mind taking this up whilst I go and retrieve the glasses?”

Faelion leaned down to nuzzle Fingon’s cheek and kiss Erestor gently on the head. “Why bother with glasses - just bring the corkscrew,” he directed before he bounded up the steps to the bedroom.

The corkscrew was on the table, and Glorfindel picked it up and pocketed it. Then he reached down and stroked Erestor’s hair. “He never has nightmares when he sleeps next to you,” he commented.

“Sometimes he does,” Fingon corrected. “Those are the times I fall asleep as fast as I can and go in there to tell his demons to fuck off.”

“As much as I hate it when he is restless, I really want to see you as a dream guardian.” Glorfindel mimicked Faelion’s movements earlier, kissing and nuzzling the pair on the lounge. “I take it you plan to spend the night here?”

“You have Faelion and a bottle of wine up there,” joked Fingon lightly. “Not sure there is enough room in the bed for anyone else tonight…”

Glorfindel bit his lip guiltily, and then attempted a rebuttal, but nothing came out.

“You have no need to defend your actions,” Fingon said. “I did offer you the wine. Go on - Fae is waiting on you.”

“Probably in a compromising position.” The mumbled words came from Erestor, eyes still closed. “Maybe you can come up with another use for the cork when you open the bottle.”

“How long have you been awake?” questioned Glorfindel, sounding mortified.

“Something about telling a salmon to go fuck himself,” he muttered, eyes still shut.

“Close enough. Go back to sleep, sweetheart.” Glorfindel kissed Erestor’s forehead. 

“Alright, but staying here with Kano.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Have fun with Fae,” he added before he dozed off again.

Fingon pulled the blanket from the back of the lounge. With some help from Glorfindel, he managed to spread it out over himself and Erestor. “You heard your husband,” he prodded. “Go have fun with your lover.”

Glorfindel gave a half salute and continued on up the stairs. Fingon licked his fingers, stretched out his arm and put out the flames of the candles nearby. He waited until he heard the door close to the bedroom before he nuzzled Erestor’s cheek and whispered into his ear, “Someday, I am going to find a way to marry you.”  
It would be years before for he would admit it to anyone, but that night, Erestor had some of the loveliest dreams he had ever had.


End file.
